Embers in a Blizzard
by OnceUponABookworm
Summary: Captain Swan AU (probably loosely) based off Disney's Frozen. Henry's powers reveal themselves and he runs away after freezing his kingdom. His mother, Queen Emma, sets out to find him and has to enlist the help of the infamous Captain Hook. But the land isn't the only thing that's frozen. Can Hook melt the queen's icy heart, or will his smolder be but ash against her?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Moonlight shone through the window, filtering through in beams and assaulting Emma's eyes as she opened them groggily, though she became instantly alert as she heard the creaking of feet on floorboards outside the door. She stealthily slid out of bed and slunk over to the door, opening it to see her six-year old son with his hand raised and knuckles poised to knock. He smiled meekly, and Emma smiled softly back. "Do you 'wanna build a snowman?" Henry whispered with twinkling eyes. Emma laughed.

"Do you know what time it is, Henry?"

"Mommy and son time!" he said it excitedly and splayed his arms out with a smile that displayed his missing front tooth, giving Emma no choice but to swoop him up in her arms and tousle his hair as she walked out into the hallway.

"You couldn't be more right," she said tenderly as they made their way down into the huge lobby and she put him down. "Okay, are you sure you want to build a snowman?"

"Yesyesyes!" Henry squealed and clapped his hands as he twirled around and then controlled his features as he stomped the ground and threw his hands out. Out of them shot ice crystals and from his foot came snow that flowed over the lobby like a wave. Soon Emma's breath was coming out in wisps as she tightened her fur robe around herself and got to work with Henry. The laughed and rolled in the snow, occasionally throwing balls at each other as they rolled bigger ones for the parts of the snowman. Emma made the base, while Henry did the torso and head. He watched as Emma plopped the parts on top of one another.

"Hmm," she hummed as she leaned back against a bank and Henry leaned against her. "What's it missing, kid?"

"Eyes, and arms, and a nose!" Henry piped up, and Emma twirled around to lift him in the air with a playful growl, tickling him when she put him back down.

"Oh really?" she said as he giggled and tried to push her arms away. "I think it's perfect!"

"Okay, okay! Let me go!" Henry cried in between fits of laughter, and Emma eventually pulled back and watched amusedly as her son tried to act offended. "Well, it at least needs a carrot nose." He said matter-of-factly, and Emma shrugged.

"Will you come to the kitchen and get it with me?" she asked, though Henry firmly shook his head.

"I have to watch the snowman!" he squeaked, and Emma eyed him for a moment before shrugging again.

"Okay, but be safe, don't wake anyone up, and don't do anything stupid," she said, keeping her eyes sharply on him until he nodded wildly. So she turned around and started off towards the kitchen to go grab a carrot. It took her a bit to find a good long one, but soon she had it and before she knew it she was back in the snow-covered lobby. "Henry!" she cried as she saw her son jumping on snow drifts he created by the second, leaping around the room on them.

"Mom! Look at this!"

"Get down right now! You're going to fa-" her heart seized as Henry slipped and screeched as he fell forward, spreading his arms out before him. She ran as fast as she could to him with open arms ready to grab him. But as he fell she watched more ice crystals fly out of his hands, straight at her. Suddenly she was very cold, and all the world swirled and turned numb and black, the last thing she heard Henry's screams.

….

The moon was a waxing gibbous hidden behind thin clouds that managed to shine down on the carriage that was flying down the dirt road, the horses' tendons straining as they galloped and the man and woman driving it urged them on like mad. The woman had one arm wrapped securely around a small boy, and the man cradled a blonde, unconscious woman in his arms. After a time they neared a large palace that exuded forebodance, but without pause the man leapt off the carriage with the woman in his arms and marched towards the palace with the woman and boy in tow. He held her in his arms as though she were still a small child, and kicked the door open violently with a leg as he and the others strode in.

There was another man in the entrance hall, leaning nonchalantly against a table. He had glittering, discolored to between the shade of gold and crocodile scales skin, and wore leather pants with an actual crocodile skin vest, underneath a red billowy shirt that his curly shoulder-length dusty brown hair barely touched.

"Ah, our dear king and queen, brave Prince Charming and the lovely Snow White, as well as our beloved Princess Emma and her darling son Henry! A family gathering," he greeted with rich English cadence and a flourish of his hands, adorned with long and black fingernails, as his rotten yellow teeth and sickly green-brown eyes flashed. He appraised the scene before him. Charming stood resolute with his daughter Emma in his, arms, his dark blonde hair mussed and blue eyes bloodshot and tired, as was the jet-black hair and hazel eyes of the queen, her arms holding Henry close to her. The imp's eyes lingered on Henry for a moment, something familiar about the brown-haired, mop-headed boy. His attention snapped back to the Prince when he coughed loudly.

"No time for formalities or games, Rumplestiltskin," he growled. "We need your help."

"With what?" Rumple asked with a simmering smile before dramatically wiggling his hand prior to pointing at the princess's limp body. "Couldn't possibly have anything to do with that, now could it?" Snow tensed as she stepped forward, the boy still clinging to her cloak.

"Name your price, Rumplestiltskin," she said firmly. "But save her."

"Ooh," he breathed, eyes turning predatory as they flickered between the royals. "Let's diagnose the condition first, dearies." He gestured upstairs, and soon the Princess was carried up to a bed where she was carefully laid by her father, who placed a kiss on her forehead before pulling away. "Yes, yes, how touching," Rumple drawled as he moved over to her. "Now tell me what happened." Snow spoke as she watched him poke and look over Emma.

"It was, it was, er, Henry."

"Henry?" the imp repeated as he whirled around and peered at the boy. "Did she tell you you couldn't have a cupcake?" he pouted.

"He has magic," Snow said humorlessly. Rumple rolled his eyes.

"Well of course he does. You can smell it on him," he scoffed.

"It's a special kind," Charming said. "He can…freeze things. Make ice and snow."  
"Is that so?" Rumple whispered, evaluating the boy with new eyes. He then turned back to the princess, clicking his tongue with admonishment. "Well," he said, looking back to her parents. "I'm sorry to say your daughter's heart has been frozen." Her parents gasped and the little boy squeaked in horror as Rumple nodded soberly.

"Can you fix it?" the king, queen, and boy asked in unison, and Rumple held up his hands placatingly at their frantic gazes.

"Well I'm afraid only an act of True Love can thaw a frozen heart; otherwise the inflicted will die. This dearie, though, is the product of your True Love, and the magic within her is keeping her from dying, for now. But her magic is unstable, uncontrolled, impulsive. It won't be enough. I can stabilize it for you, allow the magic to keep her heart from stopping because of the cold indefinitely…"

"Well do it!" Charming nearly bellowed before Rumple could finish. "Enough talk!"

"I will," he said bitingly. "But there are a few side effects, dearie."

"What are they?" the little boy asked softly with eyes full of worry and shame, and Rumple almost felt pity for him. Almost.

"Well, my spell will cleanse her of any memories of Henry's powers."

"She won't remember I have magic?" Henry asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"No sweetie," Snow said tenderly, pulling him closer to her. "And you can't tell her or let her find out. It's for her own good."

"But we'll know," Charming said comfortingly. "And you'll learn to control it."

"His powers will only get stronger," Rumple pointed out.

"We have a tutor for him, Regina," Snow said.

"Regina?" Rumple balked. "Well clearly she isn't doing a good enough job. Maybe you should have her teach him to conceal his powers."

"Fine, we will," Snow said impatiently. "Are there any other side effects?"

Rumple paused, gauging in his head how he thought the royals would react.

"What is it?" Charming prompted, stepping forward threateningly.

"Keep your sword sheathed, Your Majesty," the imp barked. "There is _one_ other thing." He paused again and straightened slightly as if to brace himself. "He heart will be frozen."

"That doesn't make any sense!" the royals cried, and Rumple rolled his eyes.

"Her magic will keep it from killing her, but as I said, only an _act of True Love _can thaw a frozen heart. And since none of you have True Love magic, a simple peck on the cheek from mum or son won't do. It has to be romantic True Love."

"And…" Snow began. "What will having a frozen heart do to her?"

"Well she'll retain some ice powers herself, and it'll stop her from feeling any true emotion for anyone but the one who froze her heart." Henry buried his head in the fold of Snow's cloak as he wept silently and Snow and Charming's faces fell into despair.

"But how can she fall in love then, to break this curse?" Charming whispered in a broken voice as tears brimmed his eyes. Rumple shrugged with a sick giggle.

"I guess he'll just have to be _really_ special, then! Or she, whatever floats the princess's boat," he chuckled.

"But she won't be able to love us?" Snow asked with the tears flowing freely.

"She'll remember loving you. What that felt like. She be obligated to act like she loves you. She'll feel like she loves you. It just won't be able to reach her heart. She'll be a lot more insensitive, unintentionally rude, impulsive, and she'll be very reckless. She could very well put herself and others in danger without meaning to because she can't feel real fear." He watched as the family collectively hung their heads and sobbed. Snow pried Henry off of her and nudged him to Charming, who gladly embraced him, and the queen went over to the bed and knelt by her daughter, clasping her pale hand in her own and laying her head gently next to her. Made uncomfortable and for some reason itchy by their display, Rumple fidgeted and tried to cheer them up. "She'll be perfectly safe around Henry though! Well, no less safe than usually."

His response was a glare from the tear-stained, broken prince, before he ground out through gritted teeth, "Name. Your. Price. Imp." Rumple flashed him a patronizing smile before bringing his fingers to his chin and scratching it in thought.

"Let's settle on… a _favor_," he finally said.

"A favor?" Snow repeated.

"Yes, and it's going to be a big one dearie. I'm saving your daughter's life!" After the king and queen exchanged glances they gave Rumplestiltskin terse nods and backed away from Emma. Rumple cracked his knuckles and walked over to her, leaning over the peaceful princess. "Oh, dearie, dearie, dear," he whispered so only she could hear. "I suppose there'll be no more snowman building for you."

….

The next day, Emma's boots could be heard throughout the hallway as they thudded down a hardwooded corridor, armed with two mugs of hot chocolate in her hands. Stopping by a large door with blue-painted, wooden letters hanging from it that read "Henry", she put the mugs on a table against the wall and knocked. "Hey Henry," she said cheerfully. "You in there buddy?" The faint sound of a storybook closing was her answer. Henry did so love his stories.

"It snowed last night, probably after midnight. There's not much, but definitely enough for some fun." There was no response, but Emma knew he was listening. "Do you 'wanna build a snowman?" she asked merrily. After a moment, she heard Henry sigh.

"No thanks, mom," he said loudly and without emotion as Emma's face fell.

"O-okay," she said, turning. "Bye."

The drinks were left untouched on the table.

The next time it snowed, and the next, and the next, and the next, Emma asked Henry to build a snowman. It didn't have to be a snowman, though. Sometimes it was a snow angel, or a fort. And it didn't have be snowing. Sometimes it was chess, or hide-and-seek, or a trip to the village. But each time she was rejected. Henry began to spend more and more time with Regina. Emma's parents tried to console her, but she felt detached from them somehow.

And she was left alone.

_**[A/N] First chapter of my Frozen AU. I would like to firstly say that since OUAT and Frozen are very different, this will be nowhere an exact AU. Probably very loose, only sharing the same premise. And please keep aware that this is a love story about Emma and Hook, though other characters and "ships" may be featured as well, perhaps even somewhat heavily. And of course Henry will be a big focus. Aside from that, I hoped you enjoyed the first installment and will take the time to review, follow, and/or favorite!**_

_**P.S. Hook will come soon so don't worry.**_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Emma wandered the carpeted halls, her gown for the ball that would be happening later that day making noise as she walked. It was long and elegant, powder blue and covered with glittering white sequins that looked like snowflakes. She stopped in front of a mirror in between two paintings for a moment to admire the way it brought out her green-blue eyes, and how well her mother had done her fishtail braid. Sighing, she remembered. Today would be only the second time her kingdom would see her in six years. It felt like the first time in forever. For six years her parents had kept the gates to the palace closed for reasons they refused to divulge to Emma. But no matter. Now that they had renounced their throne and she had been coronated (the first time her kingdom saw her in six years) she had opened them widely. Yet today was not about her. It was about Henry. Today was his twelfth birthday, and it being the first time he could have a real party with more than his family's closest friends and the kitchen staff, Emma was going to make sure it was spectacular. She nodded to herself as she strode down the hall, reminded to talk to the caterer about where to put the whipped cream.

…

"Conceal, don't feel, don't let it show," Henry recited, nodding at Regina. She knelt by him, holding his hands in hers as she smiled encouragingly. The boy was like a son to her. "I can't do this," he said, trying to pull away, but Regina held onto him.

"Yes you can," she said firmly. "It's just a party. You don't even have to touch anything. Do this for your mother, your grandparents. Do this for me." Taking a deep breath, Henry finally nodded and Regina pulled him into a hug.

…..

Emma sat in throne and waited. She heard the screech of chains as the portcullis was lowered, and the groan of the doors as they opened. It took about ten seconds for a flood of people to flow into the ballroom, and Emma smiled as she watched them greet Henry, who stood waiting to say hello at the entrance to the room. He smiled widely as he watched them place huge presents amid a pile, his princely attire, red fur-lined cloak and black gloves making him look for all the world like a small king. She watched as people began to mingle and recognized quite a few faces. Her mother's friends, the dwarves, Rumplestiltskin, one of the few who had access to the palace in the years the gates were closed, her own parents talking to Regina, the Blue Fairy, Gepetto and his son, and Princess Katherine with her husband Frederick.

Emma stood and simply watched them all enjoy themselves as she sipped champagne. There was a cough to her side and she turned to see Henry. "Hey," he said with a smile that Emma returned gladly.

"Hey kid," she greeted. It must've been the first time he'd genuinely smiled at her in weeks. The first time he'd seemed open around her in years. She wanted to ask him why he'd hated fro the past six years, but the moment was made of hanging glass that could shatter with the slightest gust of wind, and she coveted others like it so much she could not let that happen. Instead she said, "Happy birthday buddy." He nodded with another smile and leaned against her. Surprised, she tentatively put her arm around his shoulder, and after a moment squeezed tightly. They simply stood like that in comfortable silence, staring out into the crowd. "Your majesty!" someone called, and Henry pulled away.

"You should go see what they want," he said with a smile, and Emma nodded, though she hated that the moment seemed to be over.

"Okay, but you go and enjoy your party." Her son nodded and trotted off into the mingling bodies as Emma looked around for the person who called her.

"Over here, dearie," a voice sounded behind, and she whirled around to see Rumple smiling widely at her. "Nice party."

"It's for Henry," she said drily, crossing her arms.

"Ah yes, the son," Rumple mused with a flourish of his hands. "Be careful with him, or he'll end up estranged."

"He's not estranged," Emma growled. "He just likes his space." Rumple nodded factitiously.

"Oh, I'm sure he does."

"What do you want, Rumplestiltskin?"

"Why, to bring the boy a gift! And you as well," he said with a puckish gleam in his eyes. His gaze leapt from her to behind her, and she turned around to see her parents had joined her. They fanned out to stand on either side of her, and both looked annoyed at Rumple's presence. "Oh goodie, the parents are here. You're the ones I really needed to speak with."

"Why are you here?" Emma's father asked humorlessly as her mother wrapped a protective arm around her torso, one that she promptly shrugged off. Rumple smiled bitterly and giggled in his insane, sadistic way.

"I've come to make good on our deal, dearies," he said, and Emma's parents gasped. She turned on them faster than a snake.

"What deal?" she demanded, and her parents shriveled underneath her withering gaze, exchanging panicked looks.

"Oh, just one they made quite a while ago," Rumple said cavalierly as he popped grapes into his mouth. "The details escape me."

"Well what do you want?" Emma's mother finally asked after clearing her throat and putting on a brave face.

"I found my son," Rumple said, changing the subject. Emma narrowed her eyes. What did this have to do with the deal? "The one I lost awhile ago. His name is Baelfire. He fell through a portal into a Land Without Magic, but somehow ended up back here. Under the name, Neal Cassidy." Emma's heart leapt to her throat and she froze as images, memories, rehashed themselves within her mind, slicing open old scars and pouring salt on them. Running away from home as a rebellious teenager unready for royal duties and unaccepting of her parents' regime, taking a life as a thief under the name "Swan", meeting an older, wiser, kinder man with warm brown eyes and a puppydog smile, and falling in love. Offering to retrieve stolen goods for him from a hiding place swarmed by lawmen, going to meet him to give him the goods, meeting a lawman instead…. and finding out she was pregnant before she went back home…. Suddenly, instead of a 29-year old queen, she was a 17-year old runaway again, brokenhearted and betrayed by the only person she felt she could trust completely. She shook her head as she staggered backwards, her father's hand firm on her back the only thing keeping her from falling.

"Wh-what?" she choked out in a small voice that Rumple raised his eyebrows at, smile gone and replaced by serious line of his lips that he flicked his tongue across in thought.

"So it's true," he said, and Emma's eyebrows knitted in confusion as she tried to get through the sudden blockage of pain and ache in her mind in order to reply. "He's your lover, and the boy's father." At the mention of Henry her focus snapped back to her and she straightened, glowering at Rumple as she took an intimidating step closer to him.

"How did you know that?" she asked, sounding worlds more confident than she felt.

"Why, he told me, after piecing it together. He found out about your coronation and Henry, and tried to get to you, but your pesky guards and such got in the way, so he came to me for help and I found out he'd been in this realm for quite some time. Which brings me to the favor your parents owe me."

"What did they do for you in the first place?!" Emma cried, her confusion evident in her voice.

"It was a long time ago," her father murmured, gaze riveted on Rumplestiltskin as he picked at his fingernails.

"It's not important anymore," her mother said. Emma burst.

"'THE HELL IT'S NOT IMPORTANT!" she bellowed much louder than she'd meant to, and silence filled the room as she felt everyone's eyes burn onto the scene that was her, her parents and the Dark One. When she looked briefly among them, she easily spotted Henry's befuddled eyes, Regina standing next to him with pursed lips and raised eyebrows. Ignoring them and the other onlookers for the moment, Emma turned back her parents and spoke slowly and deliberately. "I am your queen. You _will_ tell me what happened." All they did was look at her with wide, sorrowful eyes and then look down at the ground. With a harrumph Emma looked to the imp, who smiled sickly sweetly.

"Well…" he began. "Six years ago there was an accident. With you and your-"

"No!" Henry suddenly cried from the crowd. "You can't tell her! It's for her own good!"

"What is?" Emma asked, frustration growing. "What's it got to do with you?" Henry's face wavered for moment before his expression hardened and he took off his glove. Emma watched as he threw his hand in the direction of the ceiling and ice crystals shot from his palm, creating icicles along the chandelier and blowing out it's flames. The room collectively gasped and everyone except Regina backed away from Henry, fear alight in their eyes. But Emma simply stood, trying to comprehend the situation as Henry watched her hopefully.

"Henry has magical powers," Rumple explained from behind. "You knew, but when he was six he accidentally hurt you with them, and your parents brought you to me. A side effect of the spell that saved your life made you forget he has powers and gain some akin to his own, and the boy was advised to stay away from you." Emma stood still for a moment, letting the imp's words sink into her, understanding them, mulling them over in her mind, trying to keep her outrage under control.

She failed.

"WHAT?!" A chill wind whipped into the room as she turned on her parents and Rumplestiltskin. That must've been one of her "frozen" powers, probably triggered by intense emotion. "You kept this from for six years!? Robbed me of spending time with my son? I'll bet Regina's been tutoring him in his magic! She probably knows my own son better than I do!" Angry, hot, tears were falling from her eyes as she yelled and her voice became strained and hoarse. She finally stopped, only to reach out and push Rumple against a wall. "What do you want in exchange for saving me, and what does it have to do with Neal?"

"Who's Neal?" Henry asked, and Emma could hear his voice much closer than it was before. She heard one of her parents swoop down next to him and whisper in his ear, heard him step back with a gasp, but kept her eyes trained on the grinning Dark One before her.

"I only want him to be happy, and all he wants is a second chance, to have his family back. To be a father to Henry….and a husband to you."

"You want me to marry him?" Emma asked incredulously, pulling away from Rumple. Her voice lowered so only he could hear her. "He abandoned and betrayed me! You can't be serious. No way!"

Rumple's eyes turned dark and his smirk faded into a grimace as he stepped forward with a warning finger. "'Twouldn't be wise to avoid the price of magic dearie, or a deal with me. You might not be the one paying the price." He looked behind her, and she turned to see her family awaiting her verdict. Her mother, eyes begging for her forgiveness and urging her to say yes, her father, resolute and encouraging, and Henry, wide eyes simply waiting and ungloved hand slightly tinted with frost. Sighing and feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders Emma turned back to Rumple with a solemn nod. He giggled and jumped before snapping his fingers. A sudden plume of purple smoke erupted in the air, and when it dissipated Neal was left in its place. His face broke into a huge grin upon seeing Emma, and recognition lit his features. He stepped forward and held a hand out to her, but she backed away.

"Emma?" he said.

"Neal," she responded without emotion. Neal furrowed his eyebrows at her coldness and his eyes wandered until they landed on Henry.

"Is...is that my son?" he whispered, though Emma was positive he already knew the answer to that question.

"You're my dad?" Henry breathed with awestruck eyes, and Neal approached him.

"Don't touch him lad, he's a sorcerer!" someone yelled from the crowd, and Henry recoiled into his grandmother with a look of shock.

"Yeah, he doesn't even know how to control it!" another voice shouted, and Neal suddenly spun around and glowered angrily at Emma.

"What? He has _magic_?" he spat as if the word sullied his mouth. "It's bad enough you didn't tell me I had a son in the first place but this-"

"You weren't here to tell Neal!" Emma yelled, shoving him and leaving frost where her hand had touched his clothes. She knew she needed to control herself, but she couldn't muster enough care to do so. "And he is not your son. You made the decision to not be his father when you left me!"

"It was for your own good! You needed to go back and rule the kingdom! Besides, if I had known…." his voice lowered with guilt and shame, only serving to fuel Emma's fit. What _right _did he have to be guilty or ashamed? _Twelve years_ after the fact, uprooting her life by coming and ruining what was meant to be her son's special day?!

"You would have what, Neal?" she said, voice low with lividity and eyes wild with resentment and a predatory gleam; she had him now. "Not left me? You would've stayed, because you had to take care of our son? It doesn't matter! _I _should've been enough! I should've been enough…." Tears pooled in her eyes and blurred her vision, and when she blinked them away one fell, sliding down her cheek but freezing there. It was then, on the verge of storming away without another word, that she realized the air was frigid and looked to see Regina trying to calm Henry as he seemed to desperately fight with himself to maintain control of his powers.

"Please…" he managed, his eyes opening briefly to land on his parents before they shut tight again as he grimaced in concentration. "Stop...fighting." He gasped and shook, and Emma ran over to him, reaching out to put an arm on his shoulder.

"Don't touch him!" Regina snapped, and Emma shot her a reproachful look before pulling her hand away, though it hovered next to Henry's shoulder.

"I told you I can't do it!" he cried, and there were shouts of dissent and dismay among the crowd.

"Someone stop it!" someone wailed, and Henry yelled as his clenched fists opened and icicles sharp as swords flew out, colliding sharply with the wall on the opposite of the room and narrowly managing not to impale anybody. There were screams of terror, and as Emma opened her mouth to calm him, he snapped. With a howl of exertion more ice and snow flew from Emma's son, and she was thrown back with unexpected force, landing on her back. She got up as quickly as she could and pinpointed Henry running through the crowd and out into the courtyard, ice and snow covering everything in his wake.

"Henry!" Emma yelled, wrenching her arms from the grip of several people who tried to hold her back as she ran. She saw him run out of the gates and watched a barricade of ice stalagmites rise from the ground to prevent anyone from following him and she slowed to a stop. For a moment she simply stood, breathing heavily and watching as her kingdom turned to winter around her. Flowers withered and died within seconds as they were blanketed with frost and then snow. Drifts and banks piled themselves up as if they had always been, and always would be, and icicles shimmered, reflecting and bending light. Her kingdom was frozen, and her son had run away across it. Shaking herself from her flabbergastedness, she snapped her fingers. "My horse!" she commanded, and her echoes rang out amidst the world of white. Her parents, Neal, and Regina rushed over, Rumple following more slowly as he analyzed the new surroundings.

"Emma! You can't go out there!" her mother said.

"You'll freeze!" her father said sternly.

"Henry could hurt you!" Neal fretted, and at this she whipped around.

"You don't know a damn thing about Henry, or me! So just shut the hell up and respect me because I am your queen! I may be marrying you, but I am in charge here!" Neal, stunned into silence, shrunk back into himself as he watched her with a look she had never seen on him. Patronism, coolness, denial, anger, and guilt he wore well, but this was something different. He shivered, and though Emma registered that it was freezing, she could tell this was not part of it.

Fear. That was it. Was Neal afraid of her? For a moment she was taken aback by the thought, but allowed herself to embrace and relish the power it gave her over him. But breaking her from her venturance into her ego boost was Regina's voice.

"Regardless," she began slowly in her imperious voice. "Henry is currently volatile. It would be best for you to-"

"Regina," Emma said condescendingly. She and Regina had always been a hair's width from loathing each other, but Henry loved her and so Emma tolerated her. But now that she knew the truth, that she'd spent six years in the dark while Regina was completely aware of her son's abilities and taught him all about them, she'd fallen far over that edge. "Go get my horse."

"What?" Regina scoffed. She seemed to have forgotten she was a servant. So Emma repeated herself, all the more scathingly. She watched Regina's eyes flicker with quiet fire, and smiled patronizingly as the woman whipped around and jogged off towards the stables. No one dared to approach the furious Emma until Regina came back with her horse Horatio and she mounted.

"Emma, don't do this," Neal pleaded with his warm brown eyes, and Emma paused. Warm brown eyes….. warm brown eyes that Emma had spent so many nights, so many days, yearning and longing for. To be in that warmth, with it and the love of the man emanating it cascading over her, back to the simple times of intrigue and innocence and devotion to the idea of a life with a person she loved and clung to. Back to before she was broken, when she was only bent. But for some reason that warmth didn't quite seem to reach her, and she turned her horse away, cantering toward the barricade and soaring over it, galloping off in the snow after Henry without once looking back or heeding her parents frantic calls.

It was of no consequence.

The cold never bothered her anyway.

_**No Hook in this chapter either, but our story is now set up, and he'll appear in the next installment! I hope you enjoyed and follow/favorite/review, and thank you so much for doing so!**_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Horatio huffed beneath Emma as she spurred him on through the frozen wasteland that had greeted them since leaving the palace and its surrounding city. After a bit they entered a wood, and Emma slowed Horatio down to a trot as they navigated through snowy trees. She was pretty sure they were close to the sea….suddenly Horatio spooked and reared, kicking out his front hooves and causing a startled Emma to fall back into a huge snow drift. White covered her vision, but she could hear Horatio gallop away. When she finally clawed her way out of the drift she kicked as hard as she could at the tree next to her in frustration, only succeeding in causing a pile of snow to shake off and fall square on her head. Sighing with exasperation, Emma resolved to channel her anger into walking power as she trudged through banks, aware of her reddening skin that would probably soon turn black and then fall off, but numb to the pain. She wasn't immune to the uncomfortableness of the snow, however, as it stuck to her and clung to places it didn't belong. She persevered though, taking comfort in the self-assurance that she had to be only a short distance from a village. And she was, for after awhile she found herself in what she gathered was a bustling seaport, or at least meant to be. It's ships were frozen in the harbor and even in the middle of the bay, Emma's mouth flying agae with the realization that the entire ocean had been frozen as well. Stopping her from being dumbfounded for too long, though, was the pesky fact that her fingers seemed to be darkening and with a yelp Emma pictured them falling off along with her ears and nose because of the frostbite. She spotted a large, earthen building with a thatched roof that had a snow covered sign hanging from it. Positive it was an inn, Emma ran towards it. And noticing a cloak covered with minute icicles hanging from a clothesline along with other articles of clothing she grabbed it and draped it over herself, pulling the hood forward, dropping her head, and shoving her braid in so that she wouldn't be recognized just as she entered the building.

Loud music was being played, and people were smashing tankards together as if the didn't have a care in the world. Emma harrumphed as she pulled up a chair by the fire close enough to get warm but far away enough as to not attract the attention of the noisy men and women. After a while she held up her fingers and examined them, pleased to see they seemed a normal shade, if a bit flushed. Sighing with relief, she allowed her thoughts to focus on her current quest, and a stone felt like it settled in the pit of her stomach when she realized Henry would be long gone by now, she had no idea where he went or how to get there, and was certainly not dressed for the occasion. She hadn't even taken her sword when she left! Desperate, she racked her brain for answers, for help that she hated asking for. Who did she know that would be there in a flash, not push the issue, and give her what she needed without hesitation? One name popped into her head, and with a satisfied smile she stood from her chair and made her way over to a booth, sliding in and grabbing a couple of shot glasses and a bottle of vodka from a barman as he walked by. "Rumplestiltskin," she said loudly and clearly, though no one could hear her in their mirth. She knew he could hear her though, and sure enough there was a whoosh in the seat across from her, and when he looked up a hooded figure was there. He folded his hands on the table and lifted his hood enough so Emma could see his face, and she acknowledged the imp with a nod.

"Ooh, vodka," he murmured as he poured himself a shot and then Emma. She gladly took it and gulped it down, then watching as Rumple drank his.

"I need some help, Rumple," Emma said plainly. She'd known him for most of her life, but only really began to associate with him after the apparent incident with Henry. She now guessed her parents had him visit a lot to check up on her out of worry, but in the process she'd learned a lot about him. She didn't consider the man behind the Dark One or the Dark One himself trustworthy, no. He was far too much of a coward for that. But she knew she could trust his deals. He would never break them, and he'd found she would always honor hers. In that there came a mutual respect, and a somewhat begrudging admiration. Whatever the case, Emma knew he wanted in her good books; he always had. It used to be because, or at least she thought because, he valued and/or feared the True Love magic innate within her (he always said himself that True Love was the most powerful magic of all), but now she was sure that in addition to that he considered her family, being the mother of his grandson, and did not want to upset Neal by upsetting her.

"Anything for my future daughter-in-law," he said with a simmering smile, and Emma cringed at the reminder of her new obligation. "By the way, in case you're wondering, Neal is in charge of the kingdom while you're off on this little adventure."

"What?" Emma hissed. "Why?"

Rumple smiled and shrugged. "He is, after all, your fiancé."

Wow, he really wasn't going to let that go. "I guess I'll just have to hurry back soon then," Emma retorted bitingly, and Rumple tapped his fingers on the table as he drank another shot.

"Oh no, no, no, dearie, take your time," he said, grimacing as he swallowed. Emma also took another drink and winced as well as the alcohol burned its way down her throat. She looked at the bottle to see it read: "Fiery Vodka, for the Brave of Hart". She snorted at their spelling mistake and put the bottle back down, looking back to Rumple to see him lean back and breathe deeply. "What do you want?" he asked.

"First, I need to know where Henry is," she said brusquely, and Rumple nodded. He closed his eyes and the lids fluttered for a moment before he met her gaze again and spoke.

"He's crossing the ocean, freezing it as he goes. I've no clue where or when he'll stop but he's heading in the direction of Mount Glaegarron."

"Mount Glaegarron?" Emma repeated. "That's border between our kingdom and Rowendelle. I doubt Eric and Ariel will be pleased if this plight reaches them."

Rumple nodded. "Might even send people to find the root of the disturbance and stop it," he said in a sardonic tone. Emma's eyes widened.

"You mean…." They could end up hurting Henry. Or worse...

Rumple shrugged with a chuckle. "Off you go then," he prompted as he took another shot.

"I don't know how the hell to get to Mount Glaegarron!" she exclaimed, probably a bit too loudly.

"Oh and you think I do?" Rumple sneered. "Or that I have enough time to show you? This tavern is full of seamen whose ships are currently out of commision. Mount Glargarron is across the ocean."

"The ocean is frozen," Emma deadpanned with a raised eyebrow as Rumple rolled his eyes.

"Frozen or not, I'm sure one of these pathetic pirates or scoundrel sailors knows our sea enough to guide you across it on foot."

"Nice alliterations there," Emma scoffed, though she looked around the tavern all the same. She could definitely identify some sailors and fishermen, and a gang of pirates…. her eyes rested on one of the leatherclad thieves in particular. He wore a long leather coat with a billowy black shirt that was unbuttoned far too much to be appropriate in the current weather, a lowcut v-neck leather vest, black leather pants, some necklaces, and quite a few jewel-encrusted and plain rings on the hand she could see, which was closed around a mug of beer. He had raven hair that flowed over his head like a wave with a part on the side and seemed to bear a penchant for eyeliner, as well as expressive eyebrows and even more expressive cerulean eyes like pools amidst a stubbled face. He was handsome, and very much so, that much Emma could not deny. But something else had drawn her gaze to him, something she couldn't quite place but could see in his eyes, filled at the moment with affection and mirth but swimming with the remnants of a tortured past, the way he moved, confident and sure but natural and not unapproachable, the way he laughed heartily, but with a hint of pain and brokenness inside. Something about him drew her to him, and she considered him as her potential guide, despite his status as pirate (although who better to guide her along the kingdom's frozen waters than someone who has spent years evading capture on them?), when he lifted his other hand. Or, more accurately, what should of been a hand and was instead a shining metal hook that glimmered in the din of the tavern as he gestured with it. Recognition flared inside Emma, and she almost immediately berated herself for thinking he could be the one to guide her.

That was the infamous Captain Hook, a pirate captain if there ever was one. If the stories were true, he was ruthless, vicious, relentless, and a cold hearted killer incapable of remorse for his deeds. Some said his mother was a mermaid, and that she cast him out into the sea because of his rotten heart, so that pirates took him in. Some said he drowned as a boy but a gypsy woman resurrected him with the curse of no soul. Some said he drank the blood of the first man he murdered and it gave him a constant thirst. Some said he ate kittens for supper; others said he ate the rats found in the galley. Some even said he snapped a newborn's neck and threw it to coyotes. Some said he killed an entire crew of the royal Navy for his ship, even the cabin boys. Emma knew all of these tales were ridiculous, and probably not one true, but they did their job in instilling a deep trepidation for this man.

But wait. Maybe that was what she needed.

She didn't need to trust him. She just needed him to help her get to Henry. And she knew that the part of the stories where Hook knew the sea like she was his mistress were certainly true. He was the optimum choice, but what if he tried to kill her? She would just have to have something good enough to offer him so that he wouldn't want to. Pirates liked gold. A lot. Wasn't that their whole goal in life? To pilfer and drink? Wanting Rumple's opinion, she turned back to him to see him finish the last of the vodka with a burp. "Do you know who that is?" she asked, nodding in the direction of Hook. Rumple followed her gaze and when his eyes landed on the pirate he tensed and his eyes darkened with what looked to be utter and undisguised loathing and malice. He gulped, not taking his eyes off the captain as he answered.

"Yes," he drawled, careful to keep his tone devoid of feeling. "You want him to be your guide?"

"I'm considering it, yes."

Rumple leaned forward dangerously close to her face, eyes glittering with threat and voice dripping with venom as he spoke. "Need I recite to you the perils of a pretty face, dearie? After all, when on your own you seem to naturally slip in with unseemly company." Emma met his gaze unflinchingly, jaw tight.

"I know who he is and his reputation. I'll offer him a hideous sum of gold in exchange for his help and use that to keep him from double-crossing me. Then when I find my son, I'll give him his gold and ban him from ever returning to our kingdom so there'll be at least one less pirate to deal with."

Rumple shook his head in something in between admonishment, disappointment, and pity. "Oh, he doesn't want money dearie. What he wants is the impossible. But he's not going to stop until he's six feet under because of it. He'll eat you alive, dear princess. And you'll let him."

Emma balked, taken aback by the certainty and hatred with which Rumple spoke, unwavering in his clear loathing for Hook. Understanding dawned on her. "What did he to you?" she asked softly. Rumple grimaced and leaned back again. His forehead creased in thought before he spoke with a forced and inauthentic smile.

"He took my wife, so I took his hand. Simple as that."

"You had a wife?"

"She's dead now."

"Did Hook-"

"Might as well have. It was his fault."

Emma had sensed Rumple wasn't telling the whole truth, and when he said Hook killed his wife she could easily discern the lie. But she didn't press it. Her decision had been made. "Hook'll be my guide." she said firmly, and Rumple scoffed in disgust.

"Very well, if that's the way you want it dearie. But don't say I didn't warn you," he said, and with a wink he disappeared, his cloak falling to the seat of the booth as he left a pile of winter appropriate clothes on the table. Emma grabbed the bundle and stood, making her way over to the bathroom, where she could change. She came out of the bathroom a few moments later with a thicker, fur-lined cloak on, a warm, slimming white trench coat, boots, leather jerkins and a thick blouse, underneath which she wore cotton undergarments. Looking around for Hook, panic set in when she didn't spot him anywhere in the tavern. She had to calm down. He probably just went outside for some air! Nodding to herself, she decided to go outside and take a look. As she opened the door a chill wind greeted her face, and she snorted as she shrugged her cloak tighter around her. There were a few couples "seeking privacy" along the walls of the tavern, but the men were all far too burly to be Hook. Gingerly Emma stepped forward and looked around when suddenly she heard the slight crunch of snow behind her and felt the warmth of nearby body heat. Whipping around and raising her hand to strike at the stranger, her hand was grabbed and she was unceremoniously pushed against the tavern wall as the hood of her cloak flopped over her eyes and obscured her vision. The roof slightly shook as Emma struggled against the stranger's vice-like grip, though they had their own body flush against hers and her movement was restricted.

"Hey, keep it down mate," a member of one of the couples muttered, and Emma felt her captor nod before she flew her head back and she could see again.

The one and only, infamous Captain Hook was there, holding her against the wall.

Well at least she'd found him.

And she couldn't help but notice how much more handsome he was up close.

When he saw her face his expression of anger faltered, replaced by….awe? before it returned almost instantly and he glared at her. "Who are you and why are you following me?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk. Emma looked at him, pondering her answer. She did need his help after all.

"My name is Em- Swan -" she lied, and she could see him easily pick it out. "Emma Swan," she finished, and though she could tell he didn't quite believe her, he didn't seem to want to press it. He only needed to know that she was rich and she needed his help. Bringing in her royal…._connections_ would only complicate matters. "I need your help."

He raised his eyebrows at her and backed up slightly, though he still held her against the wall. "Killian Jones, milady. Though most people prefer to refer to me as Hook."

"Captain Hook," Emma confirmed, and he nodded with a smile.

"Now, my darling, in case you haven't noticed, the sea is currently out of service. What would you need a pirate's help for?" His smile turned into a smirk and he displayed it widely as he continued. "Or was there something else you had in mind?" He licked his lips and Emma rolled her eyes, having had enough of his games. She ignored the small fluttery feeling she may or may not have had, crushing it without a single thought. She roughly shoved him off of her, and he backed a few steps away, raising his hook and hand and picking nonchalantly at his namesake as if to emphasize how much he was indifferent to her presence. "I apologize for that, pushing you and all," he shrugged. "'Twas bad form. But I honestly did think you a threat."

"And you don't now?" Emma asked, crossing her arms. Hook looked up from his hook at her through his eyebrows, one raised as if it were a trick question.

"That, my dear, depends. Now, are you going to tell me what you want from me anytime soon, because there's a beer and subsequent barmaid waiting for me."

Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes before stepping forward and straightening herself. "I need you to take me across the ocean," she gestured to the sea, "And to Mount Glaegarron." He laughed, different from how he did in the tavern. It seemed, fuller, somehow, more genuine, but Emma figured she was just imagining the change and refused herself a smile.

"I'm sorry, lass," he said, looking back at her. "But how do you expect me to sail across a frozen ocean?"

"You can't," she said. Obviously. "We'll have to walk or something. But I need to get across, and ship or no ship, you supposedly known the sea better than any other sailor in the realm." She noticed him straighten slightly, and hoped she hadn't boosted his clearly over-inflated ego.

"I do," he nodded, expression growing serious amazingly quickly. "And I'm no ordinary sailor."

"A pirate, yes," Emma nodded. "That won't be a problem. I will reimburse you far more than you'll ever need."

"Gold?" he asked, though his tone was neither curious nor greedy.

"Yes."

"And may ask why you need to get to Mount Glaegarron?"

Emma hesitated. Would it be wise to tell him about Henry? Most certainly not. She settled for the most obscure version of the truth she could muster. "I'm going to unfreeze the kingdom."

Much to her surprise, Hook made no comment except to raise his eyebrows and nod. He looked at her for a moment, eyes burning into hers and then as if he'd found something he didn't like he looked away before speaking. "Sorry, Swan. But I'm afraid I can't help you."

"What?" she gasped, befuddled. What kind of pirate didn't want gold? "Why?"

"I don't currently have an interest in gold," he shrugged, and Rumplestiltskin's words came back to Emma. _Oh, he doesn't want money dearie. What he wants is the impossible. _

Carefully, treading around each word, she asked, "What is it that you want?"

He looked back up at her, eyes alight with caged fury. "Revenge," he said, that one simple word growled out of his mouth like venom from a snake, burning into her and causing her to shiver. She blinked, shaking her head. She still needed his help. Whoever or whatever his vendetta was against, he needed to put it aside for the moment. And she would get him to do it. Whatever it took.

"You are going to help me," Emma stated, and he looked at her, confused. Good, she had the upper hand.

"I don't think you heard me correctly, love. I -"

"- am going to help me." She cut him off with a forceful glare which he returned.

"Now why would I do that?" he asked, voice filled with controlled frustration.

"Because you need me." He blinked and frowned, clearly even more befuddled. Even better. "If this revenge you speak of is so important to you, then why were you drinking the day away with your buddies in the tavern?" His jaw tightened, but the captain remained silent and Emma barreled on. "Clearly you're waiting for this to blow over. But it's not a storm. It's magic, and I'm betting you know that. Help me get rid of it, and you can back to your revenge. Don't and I'm guessing you'll be stuck in that place for a long while." She looked to the tavern pointedly, and he watched with what she could only deem amused admiration in his eyes, lifting his hook and hand placatingly with a smile.

"It appears you have bested me, and with only words. Very well, I will aid you. But there are to be a couple conditions, seeing as you need me as well."

Emma watched him for a moment, wondering what he might request. In the end she decided that as long as it got her to Henry she didn't care. "Fine," she consented with a nod.

"Tell me who you really are," Hook said with narrowed eyes. Emma stepped back and barely managed to stifle her gasp of surprise. He smiled as he realized he was right."I'm a pirate, love. We're fairly good at reading people, spotting false fronts. You faltered when you told me your name, my first hint. Not just your voice but your eyes as well. You also seem to have quite a bit of money, judging from what you offered me and what you're wearing. Therefore I should've heard of you or robbed you by now. So would you mind enlightening me to the truth?"

Emma narrowed her own eyes at him. She was also very good at reading people, even better at detecting lies. She liked to think of it as her superpower, and was glad her parents didn't have it many times throughout her childhood. She finally sighed under Hook's relentless interrogative stare and shrugged.

"I am Queen Emma, daughter of Snow White and James Shepherd." She expected Hook to laugh, but he looked her up and down and frowned slightly in thought, nodding after a moment.

"Interesting that a queen would consort with a pirate to save her kingdom, let alone strike out on her own," he mused.

"It's somewhat personal," Emma replied, unwilling to give details. "And time is of the essence, so…"

"Why but of course, Your Majesty," Hook said dramatically as he bowed and twirled his hook. Despite herself Emma smiled with amusement, but by the time Hook came back up she had schooled her features back into a mask of slight annoyance and impartiality. The pirate winked all the same and began to walk forward into the snow, towards the pier. Emma followed and caught up to walk beside him. He looked at her from the side and gave her a flirtatious smile.

"And if we need to make camp and it gets too cold, you can always come curl up with me," he said. She rolled her eyes.

"I can always find another pirate."

"Ah, but none as good as me." He winked again before they stopped at the edge of the pier. "I'll be back," he said before striding off into the tavern. Emma watched skeptically, eyes on the outside of the tavern in case he would try to escape. He came out a few moments later with a satchel that he pulled over his shoulder. Emma eyed it warily. "Supplies," he explained. "More than it may seem." He reached into his coat and pulled out a dagger, and even though it was in its scabbard Emma lashed out with the blunt side of her hand along the pinky finger, poised to strike at his neck and then grab the dagger. He raised his hook and deflected her arm; just barely. "It's sheathed! It's sheathed!" he cried, and she backed away, slightly embarrassed for overreacting. "You almost took me bloody head off at the bloody jugular! Bloody hell!"

She couldn't help but smile and chuckle at his theatrics as he looked at her doe-eyed and offended.

"Oh, you think this is funny, do you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow as he held out the dagger to her and she took it with a shrug.

"I think your use of the word 'bloody' is."

"I'm glad someone finds it amusing," he harrumphed, adjusting the satchel along his shoulder and side-eyeing her, though she saw the smile twitch at the corner of his lips. "I just thought you should have something to defend yourself," he explained. "There are many dangers out there." She nodded and looked out to the frozen sea.

"We don't know how thickly frozen it is," Hook said. "So we're just going to walk. We shouldn't stress the ice any more than it needs to be."

Emma looked at him with another terse nod, then at the ice covered with snow directly below them. "Well let's go then, shall we?" she said, turning to him and he shrugged.

"We should go down carefull- Swan!" Hook cut himself off as Emma jumped off the pier and landed with a thud on the ice. He immediately jumped down right beside her and glared.

"You could've killed yourself!" he exclaimed. The ice might've broken, or you might've slipped! I don't fancy having to wait for this to take care of itself before I get back to my mission, love. What kind of queen is that reckless?"

At the last sentence she balked at him incredulously. Reckless? She wasn't reckless! Was she? The thought of danger had never even entered her mind when she jumped… She pushed those thoughts away because they bothered her, prickly nuisances that they were. Instead she focused on what else Hook had said. "My name isn't Swan," she grunted instead of replying to his admonishment, stomping forward through the snow. He marched along beside her.

"That's not exactly what you told me the first time. Besides, I like it. It suits you. Lest you forget, my name isn't Hook." She raised her eyebrows at him and he did the same right back, until she rolled her eyes and looked ahead.

"So who are you trying to get revenge on?" she asked, and when she looked back at Hook his eyes had darkened.

"The man who took my hand," he growled, and there was a pause as Emma connected the dots and they breathed the name out in unison: "Rumplestiltskin". Hook looked over at her, surprise etched in his face. "How did you know that?"

"Rumors," Emma said quickly, and Hook seemed not to notice her lie as he spit ruefully on the ground.

"I can't wait to stick my hook in that cowardly crocodile's neck," he hissed, and Emma said nothing as she focused on walking. That "crocodile" was family. She couldn't let Hook kill him. She sighed as her head started to ache from all the problems in it, and trudged onward in silence, locking away most of her problems for another day and refusing to make eye contact with the pirate beside her. This was going to be a long journey.

_**And Hook shows up! (In case you didn't know, this bolded, italicized, sometimes underlined writing is my author's notes) I hope you liked my characterization of him so far; I tried to write him like he was in "The Doctor" and "Tallahassee". It also seems like Emma's becoming a little bit aware of her not being able to really feel anything, not even self-preservation! And, ooh, revenge! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and I thank you for reading! Feel free to follow, favorite, and/or share your thoughts in a review.**_

_**P.S. This chapter was pretty darn long. PHEW! But the banter and such was really fun to write!**_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Another gust of wind blew into her, and Emma grunted as she tried to pull her cloak even tighter around herself. She didn't glance over at Hook beside her, but saw him shiver in the corner of her eye. Maybe he wouldn't be so cold if he buttoned up his shirt.

Idiot pirate.

Shaking her head, Emma trudged onward. They'd been walking for what had to be about two hours. In some places the snow was so hard they could walk on it without it crunching in the slightest, while in others it was nonexistent and the sheer ice stretched to no end. She felt Hook look over at her every few moments and refused to look back, unnerved by the way his eyes met hers and fearing she might get lost in them. Finally he spoke. "You don't talk much, do you?" he asked, though Emma knew it was rhetorical. "That's quite alright. I love a challenge." At this she looked over to him with an unamused face and he gave her a small smirk before looking ahead and licking his lips.

"Your lips are going to get chapped if you keep licking them," she remarked, a hint of playfulness in her tone.

He sped up so he was leading them and then looked back at her with a wink. "Oh, I'm sure I could find _some_ way to moisturize them…." Emma had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and doubted he did too, but with the glint in his eyes and waggle of his eyebrows it certainly sounded suggestive, so she rolled her eyes and pushed forward, forcing him to do so too in order to maintain his lead.

"How long until we reach Glaegarron?" she asked after a stretch of silence. Hook replied without looking back.

"Usually, on a ship, 5 days if the sea is kind. On foot, with a frozen sea, who's to say."

"So it'll take at least five days!?" she guffawed, stopping. "No, that won't do." Hook turned back to her with furrowed eyebrows, probably wondering what her rush was. "No," she repeated more firmly, as if she could will herself to the mountain faster with a simple command. Images of Henry flashed in her mind, scared and confused and alone, thinking his mother and his kingdom hated him. She couldn't let that happen. She _wouldn't _let that happen. "We have to get to him, we have to get _there,_ as soon as possible." She tried to recover from her slip of tongue, but she was sure Hook noticed it as he raised his eyebrows and his eyes widened slightly, mouth opening slightly as if to say something but then closing as he thought better of it, which Emma was glad for.

"Well we'll certainly try, love," he said. "But these conditions are too dangerous for any kind of faster transportation and we won't be able to make it very far if we die of exhaustion first. So I suggest we rest for a bit. Is that alright?" Emma looked down at the ground, breathing deeply and letting the logic of Hook's words sink in. She would find him. But they would both just have to be patient for the moment. So she looked back up at Hook and nodded, and he turned around and starting taking things out of the satchel. Emma watched with amusement and curiosity as things much larger than should have fit in the bag came out, and Hook expertly set up a couple of bedrolls with a little fire.

"Magic," he explained briefly, and Emma scoffed at him. As if she didn't know. "Well I had no way of knowing if you knew!" he cried. She rolled her eyes and sat on the bedroll, warming her hands by the flames.

"How long are we staying here for?" she asked. "Because I can keep going all day." That was a lie. Her legs were aching and her tailbone was giving her hell after she'd fallen off Horatio. Briefly she wished her mostly-trusty mount safety wherever he was before kicking at the ground listlessly. Hook raised an eyebrow at her, his skepticism of her words clear, but she looked right back defiantly until he shrugged.

"Until we're rested, love. Or, seeing as you're so clearly fine, until I am." Emma glowered at him and he pointedly ignored her stare as he dug through satchel and pulled out two parcels, offering one to Emma. She eyed it for a moment until her stomach reminded her of its emptiness and she quickly snatched it from him. He smiled satisfactorily as he slit open the parcel with his hook and used his hand to pull out the ham and cheese sandwich within. Emma opened her own to find it held similar contents, and she eagerly devoured them. The ate in silence, and Emma could feel tension seeping into the air between them, knowing there were questions that weren't being spoken and answers that weren't being given. Hook was the one to finally break the ice.

Thankfully he didn't do it literally.

"So who is it?" he asked quite suddenly, and he brought his eyes from the few remnants of his meal to meet hers.

"What?" she questioned after a gulp of the last of her sandwich, pretending not to know what he meant. His eyes narrowed marginally, and she found herself hating how well he seemed to read her.

As if he read her mind, he smiled slightly. "You're an open book darling. I don't need you to share." Emma deliberately shook her head with an unamused expression, unwilling to show how _genuinely frightened_ that notion made her. She hadn't been frightened in a long time.

Hook shook his head as well, smiling disappearing as his eyes roamed her face. He spoke again, except more softly. Emma almost thought there was a hint of concern in his voice. "Who is he?"

For a moment her facade faltered, the events of the past day, the past six years, the past twelve years, threatening to spill over, threatening to flow out of her mouth and reveal everything to this... _stranger_. This dangerous, thieving, stranger. The words rang in her head, allowing her to keep the problems in, to not let them show. But there was a small, possibly, growing, defiant part of her that felt some sort of connection with this man, and thought he deserved to know _something_. "He's someone very important to me," she answered in a small but sure voice.

Hook nodded, and for moment his eyes faltered to the ground. "Do you love him?" he asked, and it sounded like he was going for jaunting but failed and landed somewhere along bitter.

"Yes, but it's not like that," Emma said, and before she could restrain herself more things that didn't have to be said came out. "He's my son."

Hook blinked several times in surprise while Emma kicked herself for mentioning her child. The pirate seemed to notice her regret and with a simple change in tone and twinkle of merriment in his eyes he completely altered the atmosphere, for which Emma was grateful. "So he's the one that did all this," he said, gesturing grandly to the expanse of white around them. "Remind me to thank him for that."

"Don't ask me to remember," Emma scoffed, picking up the playful mood with ease and gladness. "My mind is like a colander." Hook chuckled, and she smiled slightly.

"So is it too much to hope for that you'll forget any other men in your life?" he asked, and Emma almost laughed as she looked into the deep blue eyes, when the words brought to mind warm brown ones she had left behind. Should she tell Hook she was engaged? Why did it matter; it wasn't like she expected anything to happen anyway. But the fact she had to remind herself of Neal meant that she felt there was certainly a potential for something, didn't it? She didn't want to be engaged in the first place, and if she could have her way without fear of putting her family in danger she wouldn't, but whether arranged or not, she didn't much like the idea of cheating on her betrothed. There was nothing to worry about though. There was no way anything like that would happen with Hook. Wasn't there?

Noticing the fall in her expression, Hook leaned back a little. "Oh." The word was simple, but there were many implications within it.

Her head whipped up at him from where she didn't realize she'd been hanging it and she tried to think of something she could say. She drew a complete blank. She coughed deliberately and stood, looking to the sky. "Alright. We've rested. Let's keep going." Hook didn't argue and roused himself silently, beginning to pack up the camp. Despite his obvious skills, there were only so many things one could do with just one hand, and Emma helped without a word. Once everything was all set Hook took the lead and Emma followed closely behind.

What seemed like hours stretched on and the sky didn't change at all, maintaining a drab gray shade as Hook and Emma marched diligently along beneath it, the only sound to be heard the crunching of snow and huff of exerted breath, broken only by the occasional question from queen to guide. Hook walked into a snow drift, but instead of changing direction he plowed on through it. Emma stepped to the side and walked/skidded/slid along some snow and ice, unwilling to waste energy and time on the snow drift, though Hook seemed to be doing fine. She knew she was on thin ice, but at least it didn't have the added weight of a pile of sn-there was a sickening crack, huge splash, and muffled cry and Emma looked frantically around to see that Hook had fallen through the ice and into the water. "Hook!" she cried in panic, running over to the hole but in her haste slipping on the ice and landing on her belly, letting out an "Oof!" as she slid right near the edge of the broken ice. "Hook!" she called, searching desperately along the water. A blob of black caught her eyes, but it was much too far below the surface for her to grab with her hands. Shaking her head and taking a deep breath that she held, Emma dived into the freezing waters. The frigid temperature sent a shock through her entire body, and her mind went blank for a moment. She quickly remembered her task though, and dived deeper, looking around Hook. As she swam down further her body brushed what she hoped was leather, and as she felt the strange form more she realized it was Hook. She wrapped her arms around his waist, kicking in a panicked effort to get to the surface. But Hook was heavy and waterlogged, and the energy was draining from her limbs, the air from her lungs. Just as her fingers began to lose their grip Hook jolted into life and began to swim strongly towards the surface, helping her. When they finally reached it their heads flew out of the water and they both took giant gulps of air. Hook anchored his hook into a stable piece of ice and pulled both him and Emma up. When her body touched the ice it felt like she'd stepped from the middle of winter into a sauna and she simply laid there, drinking in air and slowly feeling more feeling return to her. Hook lay right beside her and their wet hair was touching, heads only a breath apart. Emma finally shuffled to her feet, and Hook, seeing her movement, did the same. They walked several feet away and set up camp like automatons. Hook handed her an unwrapped bedroll and she pulled it around herself tightly, scooching closer to the fire she'd made. Hook sat beside her and they huddled by the fire, teeth chattering and goosebumps erupting across them with the slightest breeze. Once she was warm enough to think, Emma shuffled around a bit, making sure all her body parts worked. Her arm brushed across Hook and he looked over at her, but she pretended the contact didn't happen.

"Thank you," he muttered after a moment, and Emma looked over at him, surprised. His eyes seemed to hold only sincerity and he chanced a grateful smile to her, one which she returned slightly.

"I'd say you're welcome but I don't want you trying that again," she joked before a gust of wind slapped a dusting of snow across her face like a whip. Her mood fell with the temperature as she looked around and realized it had gotten quite dark. Wonderful. She sighed and sank her head to her knees, when there was a soft nudge at her shoulder. She looked up to see Hook holding a flask out to her. "What's that?" she asked warily.

"Rum," said Hook. "What else would a pirate carry around? Go on, have some. It'll warm you up."

She stared at the flask for a moment, her eyes flickering between it and Hook, before he shrugged and began to pull away. Deciding she would welcome the drowning of her sorrows she grabbed his hand, and the heat of it was made all the more prominent by the frigid air around them. It was warm and calloused but oddly smooth, and Emma could swear she saw his fingers start to drift from the flask to hers.

No.

That would not do.

She finished grabbing the flask lightning-quick and looked away as she gulped a gracious mouthful. To Hook's credit, it was very good, albeit very strong, rum, and it did the trick to soothe her nerves. She handed it back to him and he drank some before handing back to her. They passed it back and forth for a small bit but after Hook took a drink he didn't give it to her. She looked over at him and his eyes danced with mischief, the firelight giving them an almost impish glee. "So, Swan," he smirked. "How about a game?"

"I would be both an idiot and a fool to play a game with a pirate," Emma scoffed. "And from what I can tell the only games you would want to play are ones where we're both naked." He chuckled and shuffled closer.

"Only if you're up for it, love. No, this is more of a get-to-know-each-other game. You answer a question of mine and I'll do the same for you."

She stared at him for a moment and figuring out he was serious, shook her head. "No way."

He pouted. "Oh fine then. You just didn't seem the type to back down from a challenge." Emma glared at him but he stared back unflinchingly, until she finally sighed in resignation.

"Fine."

"Jolly good then!" he exclaimed, all too eagerly. "First question….what's your favorite color?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and answered drily. "Red."

He nodded, and passed her the rum. She took a sip and pondered her question. "How long have you been a pirate?"

"Upwards of 300 years," he answered without pause, and she gaped incredulously.

"Impossible! How?"

"Only one question at a time love," he said, holding his hand out for the rum. Emma begrudgingly handed it over and waited for his question. "Let's see…." he mused, biting his lip. "What's your son's name?"

Emma took a double take. Why was he asking such normal questions? She thought he was just going to be inappropriate, but he was being oddly...respectful. She decided not to look the gift horse in the mouth. "Henry," she replied. "Now how-"

"-Did I stay so devilishly handsome despite my many years? There are many realms aside from this one. And there is one where time stops and you never grow old." He was a great storyteller and Emma subconsciously moved closer, transfixed as his eyes adopted a faraway look. "I went there to find out how to kill my crocodile, and ended up spending three centuries on the bloody damn island."

"What was it like?" Emma asked, and Hook smiled bittersweetly before answering.

"Beautiful. Beautiful jungle with hidden springs you could never find if you didn't know how, and deadly poisons that could kill you in an instant. Beautiful, indeed. But far more lethal." She just sat for a moment, drinking in the story and turning it over in her mind. Interesting. She reached for the rum but he pulled it away, a smirk twitching at his lips. "Uh uh. You asked two questions. I get to ask two now." She rolled her eyes but did not protest. And suddenly his eyes took on an intense tint and he leaned in closer to her, making her skin crawl; with what she didn't know. "Why are you so desperate to find Henry?"

"He's my son!" she scoffed, but the look in his eyes told her he thought there was more to it.

He shook his head with an admonishing hum. "No, there's more to it, isn't there? You don't want him to feel abandoned, _betrayed_ by someone he loves….like you did. Someone you loved hurt you. Or have you ever even been in love?" His eyes were alight with delight in the knowledge about her he'd surmised and yet swirling with intensity, understanding, and perhaps even empathy.

Emma didn't care.

She was flabbergasted.

How? How did he know that? Open book or not, there was no way he could read her that well. Or was there? She couldn't be sure anymore; she didn't know where she stood and she hated that he seemed to know so much about her and she knew nothing. "Don't ask questions you already know the answers to," she finally said, slowly and warningly through gritted teeth. Hook stared at her and blinked a couple of times, before giving a submissive and yet amused smile and holding the rum out to her. He'd shuffled off his big coat and the sleeve of his shirt slipped down to reveal a strong forearm as Emma reached for the rum. She couldn't help but notice a tattoo on his skin; it was clearly old and a little rough but plenty clear. There was a heart with a twisted dagger run through it and a paper running across it, on which the name "Milah" was inked. "Who's Milah?" Emma asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. Hook's previously openly gleeful expression completely closed off and he shoved the rum into her arms while turning away.

"Someone from long ago," he murmured. "She's gone." Understanding flared within Emma. Rumple not only took his hand but killed his love for the sake of a wife who ran off with the pirate of her own accord. Could Milah _be_ Rumple's wife? Maybe, but Emma didn't want to jump to conclusions. She just took her newfound understanding and used it to view the man in front of her not as a conniving, lascivious thief but as a brokenhearted man who'd spent centuries trying to avenge a lost love, and still was.

"Rumplestiltskin took a lot more than your hand, huh," she muttered, and he looked back at her with bitterness in his eyes and voice.

"Aye. Now who seems to be an open book, eh?" he laughed, but it was mirthless and he didn't meet her eyes, instead staring into the flames. He probably just wished he could throw all his troubles into the fire and watch them burn. Emma certainly knew what that was like. She wanted to comfort him somehow, but had no idea, and ended up reaching out to pat his back awkwardly and stopping. Her fingers fluttered half an inch from his back and she pulled away with a shiver. What was she thinking? He didn't want her empathy. Sighing, she leaned back and yawned, not seeing Hook looking at her that entire time.

"Good night, Hook," she said, curling into her bedroll.

"Maybe I'll join you in a bit," he joked and she could _hear_ the smirk on his face. Rolling her eyes even though their lids were closed, Emma buried her head further into her pillow, forcing herself to think of sleep. She would be that much closer to Henry by the end of tomorrow.

Or so she hoped.

Perhaps it was wrong that Hook didn't hope that at all.

_**UGH, not really happy with this chapter. Writer's Block is THE WORST. This thing was fighting me the whole way, and I'm sorry for that. I clearly update rather sporadically, but I really do try for at least once a week. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did feel free to drop a favorite, follow, and/or review. Great thanks to everyone who did so so far!**_


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